Local Opinion: Storytelling as an act of resistance

I didn’t understand what it meant to be Mexican or a child of immigrant parents in a mixed status household until my family moved from Los Angeles to Phoenix and I started watching the news coverage.”

After school, I would do my homework and sit with what felt like my entire extended family to watch non-stop news about immigration. While I knew nothing about the immigration system at age 6, what I did know was the eerie resemblance between my family and those being torn apart every day either through raids or deportation.

Seeing my community be repeatedly dehumanized in the media sparked my interest in social justice. By the time I was 8 years old, I watched so much news coverage that I became well-versed in immigration policy and well-aware of my family’s advocacy efforts for the local immigrant community.

Sixteen years later, my memories of this time as a child pushed me to become a digital communication specialist at an immigrant and refugee rights organization focused on challenging anti-refugee and anti-immigrant narratives. Watching your community be villainized and put on display by politicians is emotionally damaging, especially for a child. Even now as an adult with parents who are naturalized, I struggle to listen to stories of family separation, as these stories hit too close to home.

I promised myself that I would do anything in my power to push back against harmful narratives that target my community. Which is why I dedicate a majority of my life in social justice work and sharing my story.

Lately, it has been hard.

This year, there have been over 350 anti-trans bills introduced in 36 states. When I go on social media, I see trans people that I know — coworkers, former classmates, fraternity brothers, or people who I used to do advocacy with — reshare heartbreaking news about these bills targeting our youth. I can’t help but put myself in the shoes of a trans teenager, and think what it is like to watch these viral videos of a trans person, who reminds you so much of yourself, testify at a bill hearing. I am reminded of how difficult it was when I was their age, consuming this type of media.

I have to remind myself that it was my experiences dealing with xenophobia and transphobia that led me to using storytelling as a foundation for organizing when I worry about the ramifications of the hyper visibility of hateful narratives. It is through this lens that I have to challenge myself not to be consumed by anxiety, and to applaud the storytelling efforts I have been seeing that challenge anti-trans narratives.

Storytelling is an act of resilience. The only way that my communities will ever be able to overcome destructive stories constructed by political opponents is going to be through people in my communities being able to share their experiences to change hearts and minds. I encourage people of marginalized communities to continue resisting the dominant narratives placed upon us, and to share their stories authentically in a way that the media has not allowed us to do for so long. We are in a time where we can create our own platforms to share our journeys.

I have learned to be proud to be a child of Mexican immigrants despite the messages I heard growing up. And while I am not proud of what Arizona’s legislators are doing by introducing anti-trans bills, I am proud of all the trans people who have been speaking up and sharing their experiences whether that is in-person during press conferences or testimonies, or on social media.

Our communities are beautiful. We have many voices that deserve to be heard. And it is time that we share our stories, even if mainstream media is not willing to.